She Moved Through The Fair
by Potions Student
Summary: Though he hasn't seen her in months, he still dreams of her almost every night. GSR Post-relationship. A short one-shot.


**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own CSI, the characters, etc., etc. All that is owned by CBS, Alliance Atlantis, Jerry Bruckheimer and Anthony Zuicker. Trust me, if I did own it, I'd be sipping maitais in Bermuda, not writing fanfic on an ancient laptop.

**A/N:** This is one possible ending I could see to the G/S ship, and one that I wouldn't be surprised to see, if they ever got together on the show. Unless tehy worked really hard at it, they're too lalike in all the wrong ways to really have a stable realtionship. The fic was inspired by Loreena McKennitt's version of the traditional song "She Moved Through The Fair".

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**She Moved Through the Fair**

by Karen S.

He dreamt of her almost every night, those first few months.

He would wake with the smell of her hair, her skin, still hovering in the air, as though she had stood in the room and watched him as he slept, hurrying away at the first signs of his stirring. Or he would wake, still in a half-dream, feeling her presence until he opened his eyes, saw the empty expanse of bed, no wrinkles in the sheets on the side of the bed he now never slept on, no dent in the pillow beside his.

She was always laughing in the dreams; laughing _at_ him, laughing _with_ him, he was never quite sure. Her mouth would curl upward in that endearing smile, showing off that darling gap between her two front teeth. Her eyes would meet his and they would sparkle with mirth. Or she was curled up against him, her soft skin touching his, moving against him in a lover's slow dance, her breath tickling the fine hair on his skin.

He wasn't quite sure if her preferred it this way; to dream of the beautiful times, not the arguments, the stubborn silences. To save the ugliness for the harsh light of day. But that meant that same, stomach-churning realization in the morning, that it had all been a dream, and that reality was imposing with its claws and alligator's smile.

It had turned out much as he had expected it would, much as he had feared, which had kept him from opening to her sooner. It had been lovely at first, the meeting of two minds, two people so well-suited that at times he could no longer discern where he ended and she began.

But the sunset had been inevitable. He had not noticed some of the things he should have, as he was wont to do. The one flaw he could not change, could not fix, because so much of it was instinctual. It would have been like asking him to not smell, not hear. She had taken all those little things in, kept silent about them, stuffed them deeper and deeper within her until they could be contained no longer, and burst forth in an explosion of ire. And he had tried, and she had tried, not to see what was happening, to deny what had been destined from the start.

She had come to him that day, holding his heart in her hands, and she had cut it to pieces with surgical precision, with words sharp as a scalpel. "...Not working out...Just not meant to be...Better if we were just friends." Somehow he had given her some sign of agreement, though his mind was filled with a terrible stillness, as though something inside him had died, but his body kept moving. The knowledge that he had been right so long ago when he had held back gave him no comfort. His only comfort was distraction in work, in those puzzles that demanded he put aside his feelings and his heart, an easier task now that he had none left to bend in any other direction.

He wasn't surprised when her resignation letter appeared on his desk two months later. Nor had he felt anything as he'd signed it, a hollow shell scribbling words which now meant so little to him on the page. She had left for San Francisco almost immediately, not saying goodbye to him, the ensuing silence between them testament to the friendship that could never be resurrected where love had withered and died.

But though he hadn't seen her in months, had carefully kept all thoughts of her out of his mind, he still dreamed of her almost every night.


End file.
